Stories, tales, lies, musings and daily life in the mountains of central Appalachia. Dedicated to the education of the American public on the unique culture of Appalachia.

Monday, January 23, 2017

Waiting on Dandelions

I remember when I was a kid that one of the biggest events
of late winter was searching for the first dandelion. Granny always told us that they were a
promise of spring and once one was found, it wouldn’t be too much longer before
warm weather would return to the mountain.

I’m sure the search was originally initiated to get the kids
from underfoot during the dead of winter, and to give us a purpose. After the anticipation of Christmastime had
worn off, but before the egg hiding of Eastertime, there is a long stretch of
cold, hum-drum, and did I mention cold weather.
Nothing to do but chores and hunkering down and waiting for better. For us kids, that meant go to school, come
home and carry in the night’s wood, feed the stock, have supper, do homework,
and get ready for bed. Day after
day. After day.

The Mouth of Burns Holler. This is where the first dandelions would always appear. Granny's old house is visit on the right, the old stone cow barn, long since lost in a flood, stood on the left side of the road.

Then sometime in late February, Granny
would holler at us kids as we were walking up the holler road from school and
tell us it was getting to be about time for the dandelions to come up. She always picked an unseasonably warm day to
tell us this (which I might add were uncommon in those days). Now she knew it was still too early for
dandelions on the mountain, but she also knew it would give us a sense of
purpose just when we needed it most. Once
the word was given, the hunt was on. We
would run to the house and throw down our books and bags, and head out the
door. The chores would have to wait. In hindsight, granddad and Uncle Wood usually
did the chores on the first day of the search.
It was almost as if there was a vast conspiracy to get us kids out of
the house. We knew the first blooms would
appear on the hillside between Granny’s house and the old stone cow barn, and
she would watch us search in vain for the first bloom. She’d come out on the porch and talk to us as
we searched, “now when you all find a good mess of the greens, I’ll cook us all up a good
meal. Good for the blood, they are.”

Day after day, after school, we would look for it. On Saturday mornings we would look for it. On
Sunday afternoons we would look for it. We
paid attention to the other signs of spring that would give us a clue as to
when and where it might be. I devised a
method that when the hog pen started smelling pretty ripe, it was a sign that dandelions were up. Somewhere, anyway. My methodology never really panned out but I
swore that it would someday.

Springtime on the Mountain. Clothesline, dogwoods, lilacs and a chickenhouse. We all think of different things when we think of springtime. This says it to me.

Then one day when we least expected it, there it would
be. The first bloom. It would be small, gnarled, half-frozen and
unopened, but it was the first. Whoever
found it would let out a whoop and everyone would come running. Sure enough, there it was. The finder would pick it and we’d all take
off for Granny’s house. Of course, she’d
hear us coming long before she could see us, and she would have us some treat
made up. Like molasses candy, or tater
candy or something of the like. It was
almost as if Granny knew what day we’d find the first dandelion. Looking back, I wouldn’t be surprised to
learn that Granny used to look for the first bloom while all of us kids were
away at school. Granny always did love
her dandelions.

A good place to find dandelions. At the right time of year, you can pick a mess in just a few minutes.

Grandmaw's Dandelion Gravy recipe. You put it over dandelion greens. Put about 1 1/2 cups milk in skillet with 1 tsp butter or bacon grease (bacon grease preferred). Then make thickening in another bowl by combining: 2 Tbsp. flour, 1 egg, about 1/4-1/2 cup milk, stir until smooth. Add about 1 Tbsp. vinegar. Add to the milk in skillet. Salt and pepper to taste. Cook until it thickens. If not sour enough add little more vinegar to your taste.